A Suspicious Woman, a Cheap Woman, and a Happy-Looking Woman

ALEXIA MIDGAR

I hate this.

That was the only thought running through my head as I sat in the VIP section, watching the Opening Ceremony of the Goddess's Trial begin. The seating arrangement went Natsume, then me, then Rose. There were plenty of other "important" guests in the rows behind us, but we were clearly the main attraction. It was a transparent attempt to draw a crowd using some "eye candy," but fine, I could live with that.

The things I couldn't live with, however, boiled down to two specific problems.

First: Acting Archbishop Nelson. The man was currently standing in the center of the venue, giving a greeting that was as self-important as it was long-winded. I’d had the pleasure of speaking with him yesterday about the Archbishop Murder Incident, and the man had been a brick wall, stubbornly refusing to let me anywhere near the investigation.

The trouble started when Nelson had the nerve to say the matter was closed just because the target of the audit was dead. I told him—putting it delicately, of course—that if the target is dead, that means the need for an investigation actually increases, you moron. But Nelson wouldn’t budge, insisting that I’d have to go through the whole permit process all over again.

Even if I rushed, it would take three days to get back to the Royal Capital, at least a week to clear the paperwork, another three days to return to Lindwurm, and then God knows how long for Nelson to actually "process" the permit. Knowing his temperament, he’d probably let it sit on his desk for a week just to spite me. By then, any meaningful evidence would be buried so deep it would never see the light of day.

But as a representative of the kingdom, I couldn't exactly strong-arm him. The Holy Church isn’t just some local cult; it’s the dominant faith across the neighboring countries. If I pushed too hard, I’d be inviting international pressure and, worse, I’d lose the support of the common people. Religion is a wonderful tool when it’s on your side, but it’s a total nightmare when it’s the enemy.

I glared at Acting Archbishop Nelson as he ranted on with that "voice of God" energy, silently telling the baldy to at least try to look like he was in mourning. We were still keeping the Archbishop’s death a secret from the public, but still. Also, for the record, the man is definitely bald.

I let out a heavy sigh and glanced sideways at "Author Natsume" to my left.

That brought me to Problem Number Two: this woman. Natsume was sitting there perfectly poised, offering the crowd these practiced, graceful smiles. Between the silver hair, the cat-like blue eyes, and that beauty mark that just happened to add the perfect touch of charm to her face... she was a bit much.

She was waving and bowing with such flawless etiquette that the crowd was practically eating out of her hand.

Man, she’s suspicious, I thought.

I don’t care if she’s supposed to be some "once-in-a-millennium" genius novelist; I hadn't even heard her name until today. Sure, literature isn't exactly my thing, but as a princess, I’m at least briefed on the famous names. That meant Natsume was a total newcomer who had just exploded onto the scene.

A rookie with that much poise, presence, and popularity? Smells fishy to me.

It wasn’t jealousy. If anything, it was a case of same-species loathing. I play the part of the perfect princess in public, too. I’ve spent my whole life suppressing my true self to maintain the mask. Everyone in power plays a role to some degree, but very few people are this good at killing their own personality to play the part. And usually, the harder someone works to kill their true self, the darker the rot is on the inside.

"Thank you all for your support!" she chirped.

I practically clicked my tongue. Her "sweet" voice made my skin crawl. And that neckline? Please. It was overtly calculated. Don’t lean forward just to show off your cleavage, you absolute fraud. Stop acting like a bubbly teenager.

While I was busy hurling verbal abuse at her in my head, I put on a smile that was even more "extra" than usual and waved to the crowd.

The reaction, however, was noticeably weaker than the roar Natsume got. My cheek twitched for a split second. I crossed my arms, subtly pushing my chest up and out, and leaned forward just a tiny bit.

The cheers got slightly louder. Slightly.

Whatever. My outfit just isn't designed to be a thirst-trap, I told myself, trying to be satisfied as I sat back.

I glanced to my right. Rose was there, wearing a look of pure, enlightened bliss. She’d been like that since breakfast.

Then, just to be sure, I cut my eyes back to the left.

In that exact moment, I saw it.

Natsume’s expression shifted. One side of her mouth curled up into a cold, mocking sneer.

Snap.

Something inside me finally broke.

BETA

I hate this.

That was the thought looping through my brain as I maintained the persona of Author Natsume.

My irritation stemmed from a single source: Alexia Midgar, currently sitting to my right. This woman was nothing more than a pest—a parasite using her status as a princess and a schoolmate to worm her way closer to my beloved master.

She was currently fawning over the masses with a nauseatingly sweet voice, waving with a fake smile and playing the "ideal princess" to a degree that was frankly suspicious. It’s a universal truth that women who act this perfect in public are hiding a soul as black as pitch. I didn't believe for a second that my master would ever be fooled by such a cheap woman, but I couldn't rule out the possibility of a momentary lapse in judgment.

Even setting that aside, this woman was a complete eyesore in the context of the book I was writing, The Complete Chronicles of Master Shadow.

When I first heard that Master Shadow had saved her during the Princess Kidnapping Incident, my blood was absolutely boiling. That role should have been... I mean, the fact that such a cheap woman had inconvenienced Master Shadow was an outrage. It wasn't jealousy. It was a matter of narrative integrity.

To vent my frustrations, I had spent several late nights rewriting that scene in my manuscript, replacing the princess with a beautiful, silver-haired Elf with blue eyes and a beauty mark. I’d read it over and over just to soothe my nerves.

But if this cheap woman continued to force her way into the real-world chronicles of Master Shadow, it would be a disaster. I surpassed her in every category: ability, beauty, and devotion to our Master. So why was she acting so bold? D-Don't mess with me.

I kept up a stream of mental insults directed at the cheap princess while my body handled the crowd-pleasing on autopilot.

Then, I looked over and saw the unthinkable. This cheap princess was actually trying to emphasize her own cheap chest to pander to the crowd.

Ugh, how pathetic.

Especially considering her "volume" was so clearly inferior to my own. It was painfully average at best.

I guess I win this round, too, I thought. I looked down at my own ample, boastful cleavage and let out a quiet, involuntary "Pfft."

Oops. Did I let that slip out loud?

I quickly looked away, feigning ignorance, but at that exact moment, a bolt of white-hot pain shot through my right foot.

"Igh...!?"

I choked back a scream. I looked down to find Alexia’s high heel planted firmly on top of my foot.

Snap.

I felt something inside me about to break, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"Princess Alexia," I said, my voice steady despite the agony. "Um, I would appreciate it if you could... move your foot."

Alexia looked at me with a perfectly blank expression, as if she’d only just noticed I was there, and finally lifted her heel. Then, without even the courtesy of an apology, the woman actually had the nerve to sneer "Pfft" right back at me.

You absolute bitch!!

It took every ounce of my loyalty to my Master and Shadow Garden to keep from exploding right there.

Grind, grind.

I gritted my teeth so hard that a tiny bead of blood trickled from my lip.

Rose, meanwhile, just kept on smiling happily.